“If you start sweet, then you’ve got somewhere to go.”

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, only darkness every day.

I was wiser at 30 than I am now. My judgment was better at 12. If you look out the windshield of a Hyundai or a Bentley, you see the same road.

I write and sing about whatever I am able to understand and feel. I feel that it is healthier to look out at the world through a window than through a mirror. Otherwise, all you see is yourself and whatever is behind you.

My real life was when I was just a working guy. You know, it’s OK to head out for Wonderful. But on your way to Wonderful, you’re gonna have to pass through All Right.

If there is a load you have to bear that you can’t carry, I’m right up the road. I’ll share your load if you just call me.

I’ve always been serious that way, trying to evolve to a more conscious state. Funny thing about that,though. You tweak yourself,looking for more love, less lust, more compassion, less jealousy.

Lean on me, when you’re not strong and I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on.

I write and sing about whatever I am able to understand and feel.

If nobody throws all their rules at you, you might make a song with no introduction.

When you get to all right, take a good look around and get used to it, because that may be as far as you’re gonna go.

It’s one thing to carry your life wherever you go. Another thing to always go looking for it somewhere else.

Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold, outlaws touch ladies somewhere deep down in their soul.

So much perfection argues rottenness somewhere.

I knew that I lived in a country in which the aspirations of black people were limited, marked-off. Yet I felt that I had to go somewhere and do something to redeem my being alive.

f we can get feminine and human morality out from under the yoke of a dead ethic, then maybe we’ll begin to get somewhere on the road that leads to survival.

The thing about being catapulted into a whole new life–or at least, shoved up so hard against someone else’s life that you might as well have your face pressed against their window.

Sanity lies somewhere between the inhibitions of conventional morality and the looseness of extreme impulse, but the area in-between is very fuzzy.

The reason I play so hard is that somewhere out there is some kid who has never seen me play before, and I don’t want to disappoint him.